Beloved Northampton bartender Jerry Sousa pours his last glass

Special to The Republican / Bob DunnJerry Sousa, right, celebrated his last day of work at Hugo's bar in Northampton on Nov. 20 after spending years filling glasses in the city. To his left is his boss, David Niedzwiecki.

By BOB DUNN
Special to The Republican

NORTHAMPTON - Even through the fuzziest memories of the Northampton music scene of the early 1990s, when the Baystate Hotel was the premier showcase for both up-and-coming and established local and regional bands, people recall Jerry Sousa.

Students, hipsters, hangers-on, musicians and their significant others who frequented the fondly-remembered bar might not have known his name, but they remember the burly bartender with the glasses and the slicked-back hair who had the air of being woefully out of place and right at home behind the bar.

They remember elbowing their way to the front between sets and seeing one of Sousa’s meaty fingers single them out of the crowd with a brusque, “Whatcha need?”

They remember getting their drink made well and delivered quickly through a noisy, crowded, smoky bar full of fellow customers in various states of coherency.

Sousa, 69, of Holyoke, poured his last pint as a working bartender on Nov. 20 at Hugo’s, the place he’d been slinging cocktails for the last seven years before deciding to hang up his apron.

Sousa spent 10 years tending the Baystate’s bar in the heyday of the Northampton music scene, pulling pints and mixing highballs while feet away bands - The Big Bad Bollocks, The Scud Mountain Boys, The Ray Mason Band, Angry Johnny and the Killbillies, Miss Reed, Amy Fairchild, The Unband, Bender Pike, New Radiant Storm King and too many others to list - played each weekend under a nicotine-stained ceiling on a beer-soaked carpet.

“It was wild,” Sousa said fondly of his time at the Baystate. “The bands were great; the people were great.”

“I never really had to reprimand anyone ... and they knew I would,” he said with a smile.

For a time, Sousa also worked at the Vermont Country Deli in Northampton.

He joked that during those days, he would serve people their last drink of the evening and their first coffee of the morning.

It was at the deli that Hugo’s manager, David Niedzwiecki, approached Sousa about filling in some open shifts at the bar.

Sousa said that Hugo’s had a much different atmosphere than the Baystate in its prime, but no less rewarding, and he counted the musicians and their fans from the old days among his loyal customers.

While there is no live music at Hugo’s, it is still very much a musicians’ hangout, with a famous piece of advice for would-be music critics still visible in the men’s restroom: “Start your own ... band or stop (complaining).”

Stephanie Sullivan, of Northampton, has been a customer and a fan of Sousa’s since she first ordered a drink from him a few minutes before closing time and gleefully informed Sousa that it was her birthday. “You’ve got five minutes,” he told her.

“Since then he’s been my favorite,” she said. “He’s a working-class bartender.”

“It’s going to be weird,” said co-worker Christopher Wenz. “It won’t be the same.”

Wenz said that he was always amazed at how well Sousa could handle a weekend crowd on a popular band night at the Baystate and both keep his cool and everyone’s glass full.

“He’s the guy who’s been in the background through a whole piece of Northampton’s history,” Wenz said.

Sousa, too, feels that being part of Northampton in the early-to-mid ¤’90s was one of those rare moments when you are aware that you’re living in a very special time and place.

Sousa managed a Howard Johnson’s restaurant and cocktail lounge, which is where he learned the subtle art of mixology, before becoming a district manager for the company.

When HoJo’s got sold, he ran a restaurant in Holyoke called Good Ol’ Days for about 10 years before leaving that behind and was soon asked to tend bar at the Baystate.

“Things took off from there,” Sousa said.

Every night has its last call, however, and Sousa reached his.

“I’ve had enough of the nightlife,” he said. “I’m getting up there; it’s time to slow down a little.”

Niedzwiecki said that Sousa approached him and told him that they “needed to talk,” and he knew what was coming.

“I told him, ‘Good for you,’ ” Niedzwiecki said. “You’re 69. You shouldn’t be working all the time.”

“Everybody will miss him, but he deserves it,” Niedzwiecki said.

Sousa said that he wants a chance to spend more time with his family, his wife of 40 years and his five grandchildren who range in age from newborn to 16.

He also wants to travel more, taking opportunities to spend more time in his “second state” of Florida.

Sousa and his wife were scheduled to leave for a cruise after the Thanksgiving holiday.

“It’s been a great experience,” Sousa said. “I’ve enjoyed it immensely.”

Hugo’s held a private party for Sousa during his last shift. Well-wishers and long-time customers came in to pay their respects, have a drink, visit with each other and sign the life-vest that was given to him as a bon-voyage gift for his aforementioned cruise and to perhaps get a chance to hear him say his infamous line, “Drink up you bastards, time to go!” one more time.

Still that working-class bartender to the end, Sousa was still serving drinks Sunday afternoon when he said with a smile pointing over the bar, “It’s going to be my time soon ... I’m going to be on that side.”